Tattoos only cover so much
by wrenegade
Summary: When Edward left Bella in New Moon, her life took a different turn. After Charlie's tragic murder and her own near miss, she's a completely different person. Writing for a local newspaper, she's found her own life on the East Coast. What'll Edward do when he sees her again? Rated for language and lemons (later). AU. Bella is OOC
1. Chapter 1

This plot bunny came to me while reading Drotuno's Masen Manor. It's an excellent read that I highly recommend. I borrowed one aspect from her story, but the rest is totally mine, minus the stuff that belongs to Stephenie Meyer, of course.

* * *

Bella PoV

I made sure my scarf was tight around my neck as I walked into the tattoo shop. It wouldn't be my first time going under the inked needle, and likely not the last, but this one was the one that meant the most. Tattoos had become my addiction. I said no to drugs, alcohol and cigarettes, and instead opted for the much more satisfying permanent ink. I started with a small symbol on my shoulder that symbolized loss. I had lost so much, and felt that it was fitting for the first tattoo. I liked it so much that I went back and got a matching one on the other shoulder that said hope. Now those two tattoos were surrounded by angel's wings and beneath them was a serene scene of a waterfall splashing over rocks in a magical forest. There were fairies, butterflies and even a faun. Full sleeves on both arms followed, and then a smattering of images across my chest, abdomen and upper legs.

This tattoo was the one that would seal the deal on my history and make it so no one could ignore what I'd been through, nor what I'd survived. I hadn't frequented this particular artist before, but my usual guy recommending this one, saying no one did this kind of tattoo better. I also asked him not to call ahead for me, as I wanted the full effect. The full shock and awe when he saw what I wanted tattooed and where it was. It wouldn't have as much meaning if he knew what he was getting into before I even walked in the door. My usual artist, Sausage, agreed with that, and did not call his buddy Felix before sending me over.

"You must be Mary Alice," I heard a male's voice call out. I looked up from the tattoo magazine I'd been reading and was greeted by a familiar face. I nodded at him and stood up to greet him. "I'm Kyle. Your survey says that my buddy Sausage referred you?" He held out his hand to me in greeting, I shook it with the firm grip that my father taught me. I was so glad he was visiting the area, since he normally worked out of Illinois and that was a bit of a trip for some ink.

"Yep, he's done all my other pieces, but recommended you for this special one. I asked him not to call ahead for me, as I wanted to tell you everything myself." He chuckled and nodded, gesturing for me to follow him. He led me into his little studio area where he pulled out a sketchbook and a chair for me.

"So what are you thinking? You didn't reveal much on the survey." He held up the mostly blank document. I nodded in reply. I'd written only "to be discussed" in those parts.

"I have a pretty nasty scar that's very prominent on my body," I began, tugging at my sleeve. "I know scar tissue doesn't tattoo well, so I'm not asking for a cover up. On the contrary, I'd like for it to accentuate the scar. I want it to stand out. It already makes people nervous and uncomfortable when they see it, why not make it even more so?" Kyle swallowed loudly, the eyeball that was tattooed across his throat bobbing slightly. "Exactly," I added, laughing.

He smiled at me, realizing the theme I was going for. "So you want stand-out, conversation starter, tell the world you don't give two shits what they think, kinda tatt?" I nodded again, smiling. "Alright, so where's the canvas? I don't see any scars now, but you're wearing long sleeves and pants."

I stood up and began unwinding my silk scarf from my neck. It was my last remnant of the Cullens that I still had. The one thing that Edward hadn't pilfered when he ransacked my bedroom the day he left me. I bent down to put it in my purse and pushed my hair away before standing back up. Lifting my chin slightly, I gave him the full view of the jagged, gruesome scar that split my neck in two. "Holy Fuck!" he exclaimed. "Oh I'm sorry. I just… I didn't expect… _that_."

I laughed. "It's okay, Kyle. I've long gotten past the pain associated with it, don't get offended when people make notice of it, nor do I get embarrassed. Like I said, I want to make it stand out. It's a testament to what I went through and bad-ass proof of my survival."

"I'll say. Do you mind if I ask what happened?" I took a deep breath as I prepared myself for the story.

"Not at all. Y'know how some trauma victims say that their whole attack was a blur, that the details are fuzzy, or that they blacked out and can't remember anything?" Kyle nodded his agreement. "Maybe it's just me, or maybe they're all a bunch of liars, but I remember that night in vivid detail. It's the clearest memory I have. Every single sound, smell, and sight is burned into my brain forever…" As the words came out of my mouth, I was transported back to that fateful night.

* * *

I was asleep in my tiny twin bed at my father's house. I had always been a light sleeper, but in the months since my heart and soul left me on the forest floor, I barely slept at all. And when I did, I woke up screaming from a terrifying nightmare. Edward's departure had ravaged my soul, leaving me dark and empty. I'd learned to fill the hole, slightly by doing reckless things and getting into trouble only to hear his voice. I was a speeding ticket away from being sent to army boot-camp style boarding school, but I didn't care. It was the only way to keep the pain away. My father was doing his best, but even he couldn't keep the nightmares away.

That night, I woke up to the sound of my father screaming, not me. Quite the turn of events. Only his scream was cut off by a gurgling sound. Knowing something was terribly wrong, I grabbed my knife that I kept in my bedside table and headed towards my father's bedroom, sliding it into the sleeve of my shirt. He'd taught me well. I knew which floorboards creaked, and how to open my door silently. I hoped that whoever was assaulting my father didn't know I was there. It was the only advantage I had.

I opened the door in time to see my father slump to the ground, a red line across his neck and blood spurting out of his arteries, spraying the room in crimson. I screamed for him and fell to my knees. "Get her!" I heard someone yell. I was grabbed around the waist and a knife held to my own throat. I slumped in my attacker's arms, remembering my Dad's instruction that if you struggle, they only hold you tighter, but if you relax, they will too. The attacker let his guard down, thinking I'd given up. Instead, I slid the knife down my shirtsleeve and into my hand. I stabbed backwards into anything I could find. I think I caught his groin or femoral artery as he screamed at let me go. He was out cold in seconds from the blood loss.

The other attacker brought his knife up and caught me across the throat, just like my father. I spluttered and coughed, but before I went down, I wedged my knife deep into his carotid and turned it. My father died as did the two attackers, but I survived. Just barely, but I did. Everything did go black at that point but not before I watched the life completely leave Charlie's eyes. It destroyed me.

* * *

I finished the gruesome tale, and realized that the other artists and a couple patrons of Kyle's shop had gathered around to hear the story. I used to get embarrassed at any amount of attention, but not anymore. Human beings were just naturally curious; I knew that fact all too well. I just didn't care about their reactions anymore. "My father was the police chief in our town. He put a lot of bad guys away, so naturally, he was always a target. It was one of those guys and a buddy of his that came to our house that night. We never found out if they were truly after my father for revenge or if someone else hired them. Since they were both dead, it was hard to ask them questions."

"So, you killed the guys that killed your father?" someone asked.

I shrugged. "I guess so. I already knew from previous situations, but when it comes to fight or flight, I will _always_ fight." I was reminded of the Ballet Studio in Phoenix where I'd gone willingly to James to try and save my mother. Even though I knew I was no match for a vampire, I'd still tried to fight him.

"Damn, now _that_ is bad-ass," another girl said. I recognized her as Tattoo-Baby. She, Kyle and my guy Sausage had been on a TV show, showcasing their tattooing talents and trying to win the grand prize. None of them had won, but they were still damn good artists.

"So I'm guessing you want something across your throat, something that shows the world, 'look at this! Some jack-ass tried to take my head off, but he failed when I shanked him in the throat because I'm fucking awesome.' Right?" God I loved the no-nonsense attitude of so many tattoo artists.

I smiled again. "Abso-fucking-lutely." He grinned and started sketching. First he needed to sketch my scar so he could doodle around it. I held perfectly still as he'd draw a little bit then look back at my scar, then draw some more. After a few minutes, he had a perfect replica of the mark on his paper. "I gotta say that when I saw your name in my appointment book, I never expected someone like you. The name 'Mary Alice' definitely suggests well… the opposite of what you are."

"Exactly," I replied, smiling. "I actually had my name changed, recently. Mary Alice was a dear friend of mine that I lost a while back. I needed to get away from my old life completely so I changed everything." Even my hair was a drastic change. Gone were the long mahogany locks, and in their place a short angled bob that I dyed burgundy.

"I can dig that," he agreed. "Now I'm thinking we can go old-fashioned with this, meaning 1950s monster movies. Frankenstein, creature of the blue lagoon, the mummy, that kinda thing. What do you think?"

"Sounds perfect," I agreed. He kept drawing until he had a rough sketch of what he was thinking. There were obvious black stitches and staples that went across the scar, making it look like it was still being held together. He drew some blood spatter and drips of blood coming out of the scar and even some parts were festering. He added bits that looked like the skin had completely ripped away, revealing muscle underneath. Other skin rips revealed scaled skin or mummy-bandages. I absolutely loved it. He explained that he'd do a bit of shading right around the scar to make the puckered flesh really pop out of the image. When I approved the design, he made an appointment for me to return in a week to get it inked, so he had time to draw it out perfectly and make a stencil. He said he'd block out his whole day for me since neck tattoos can be tough and we'd need a lot of breaks. I thanked him for agreeing to the project and told him I looked forward to the next week.

I arrived home only to see another bike parked in my allotted space. There was plenty of room for both bikes of course, but that could only mean one thing. Jake was here. He'd tracked me down yet again. I looked up and could see him leaned against the door to my apartment. _How the hell did he find me? _I thought. He didn't even know Alice's real name. Plus I'd fled clear across the country. Stifling an eye roll, I climbed the three flights of stairs to my floor and walked down the breezeway to where he stood. He looked over at me, and visibly relaxed in relief. "Thank god you didn't go through with it, Bells," he said, sighing. He reached out as if to cup my cheek, but drew his hand back when I flinched. I still wasn't okay with his affection.

"Go through with what?" I asked.

"The tattoo on your neck," he replied. How the hell did he know about that? Keeping my face calm and collected, I pretended that I already knew he had been lurking.

"Actually, I am still doing it. The artist needs to draw out the design we agreed on, and I'm going back next week."

"But… Bells, you already have enough tattoos. You won't be able to get a job anywhere if you have one on your neck like that."

"First of all, only my dad gets to call me Bells. Not you, not Billy, not anyone else. I already have a job. I write for a living, and no one has to see me for that. I also already had trouble getting jobs with this massive scar on my neck, which you're also well aware of. Why do you keep beating a dead horse, Jake?"

"I just don't want you to regret this, honey. And I want you to come home." He looked truly remorseful for upsetting me. It was the definition of our relationship. I'd hurt him, and look remorseful for it, so he'd forgive me. Then he'd do the same damn thing. It was a never ending cycle of hurting each other, feeling bad about it and the other being sometimes far too forgiving.

I shook my head. "Not gonna happen, Black. And don't call me honey." He always knew I was dead serious when I used his last name. "I finally moved on, finally am beginning to live again after… all that happened in Forks. To go back there would set me back two years."

"Why'd you pick Mary Alice Brandon for your name?" he asked.

Shrugging, I replied, "Found it in an old book I liked. It was old fashioned and not so common these days. Plus it fits me now." I had gotten very good at lying. Even Jacob, who used to be able to read me like a book, was fooled. I picked the name because it was Alice's name before she became a vampire. Of all the Cullens, I felt closest to her, apart from Edward, of course. She was like the sister I never had, and never realized I wanted. Sometimes, I missed her most of all.

"Fair enough. Listen Bella, I know you're hurting and you miss your dad and the l… _them_, but isn't what you're doing a bit reckless and frankly, self-destructive?" I had to roll my eyes.

"Yes it is," I agreed, leaving it at that. His eyes went wide. "I have no fear of death, Jacob, but I'm not asking for it, nor am I suicidal. I'm simply throwing caution to the wind and letting what happens happen. I know that's not how you wanted things, Jake, but I can't live my life the way other people want me to. I did that for over eighteen years, and I'm done."

"Alright," he relented. "Can I… can I at least stick around a while and, um, hang out with you? I've missed you like crazy. I don't have school again until September, and the shop is closed for remodeling for a couple weeks, so I'm free. What's there to do around here?" he asked.

Somehow, we were instantly Jake and Bells again, even though I had grown to hate that nickname. I led him through my foyer and into the living area in my apartment. He flopped onto the couch after I told him to make himself at home. I shook my head at him, but went to get a couple sodas from the fridge. "What? Not warm ones? Come on, Bella, you know how we do."

I shook my head again. "Not anymore Jake. Honestly, you could at least have had them on ice in a cooler in that garage of yours. Maybe I should have gotten you a mini-fridge as my thank you for fixing up those bikes," I teased.

He chuckled as he knocked his can against mine in cheers. "So what do you do around here?"

I shrugged. "A lot of writing, a lot of reading. I go for walks every day, sit at coffee shops and people watch. It's very serene and relaxing here. Sometimes I go down to the beach and soak my feet in the ocean. Whatever I want to do, really."

"That sounds very… freeing," he commented. I nodded. It was. That was exactly why I picked this place. "So, let's say you show me this beach of yours. Has it got anything on La Push?"

"Well visually, La Push is far more beautiful. There aren't any cliffs around, and the surf pretty much sucks, but since I don't surf or even swim, it's perfect. Plus the water's almost always warm, unlike back home. There are wild horses around, too, and I like watching them. Sure, let's go down there." I got up from the sofa and went to change into beach-worthy clothing. Jake said he was going to grab his duffel from the saddle bag on his bike and come back up. By the time I was changed into my bikini and a sarong wrapped around me like a halter top dress, Jake was back and had also changed into a sleeveless t-shirt and board shorts.

I'd forgotten how attractive Jake really was. He'd always been that overgrown kid brother to me, so I never saw him in that light, much to his chagrin, but still, he was a good looking guy. His arms were cut and chiseled and his chest was broad and muscled. I was sure he still had at least a six pack, if not more, and I also knew that "V" shaped muscle disappeared into his shorts. There was one time when I had a brief moment of physical attraction to him, when I saw that V. Ever since; I'd asked him to always wear a shirt around me. He'd filled out even more since becoming a wolf and now even looked older than me, though I couldn't remember where we stood on who was "older."

Grabbing towels, and filling my beach cooler with ice and more sodas, we headed down the stairs and Jake paused when I didn't head towards the bike. I rolled my eyes. "Jake, the beach is right over there. We hardly need to ride." I said, pointing towards the grass covered sand dunes behind my apartment complex. There was a wooden plank path cut into the sand dunes that led right out onto the beach.

We laid out our towels beneath one of the vacant umbrellas that the next door hotel provided. They weren't very busy during the week, so they didn't mind when the locals used their umbrellas. Jacob immediately tore off his shirt and ran into the ocean, diving headfirst into the first wave he encountered. I shook my head as I saw the few women on the beach ogling him shamelessly.

Seeing a few guys starting to look my way, I smirked to myself and un did the tie on my sarong. It fell around me in a ring at my feet, stepping out of it, all my tattoos were on display for all to see. For some reason, I'd gotten a lot more confident about my body. In the past couple years, I'd filled out a bit, actually had hips and some curves, and I worked out a lot, so the muscle tone added to my look.

Deciding that the water did look inviting, I followed behind Jacob slowly, just getting my feet wet. I wasn't a fan of swimming, much less the feeling of salt water having dried in my hair. On my way back to my towel, a young woman approached me, her giggling friends behind her. "Is that your boyfriend?" she asked, pointing at Jacob who was just standing in the water at waist height and staring out at the ocean.

"Nope, little brother," I told her. She gawked at me. "Big little brother, yeah. He's visiting from Washington State. Last I checked, he was single, too. You should go talk to him. He's a great guy." I urged her forward, just to see the look of mortification on Jacob's face. Her friends stood by me and watched in rapt attention as the girl swam out to where Jacob was standing. Poor thing barely came up to his chest, not realizing the water was as deep as it is.

"Jesus, how tall _is_ he?" one girl asked.

"Just south of seven feet," I answered. "He's a beast of a man, but has a heart of gold, and just wait until you see his smile," I told them. "He's not really my brother, but we grew up together and that's just how it is with us."

She was a pretty girl, right about Jacob's age, I figured. He still had no idea how to talk to girls, since I was the only one he was ever interested in. If he would just open up his eyes to the possibility of someone else, he could find someone really special, imprint or not. Despite how far I'd come after Edward and his family leaving me and Charlie being murdered, I didn't think I'd ever be in a place where I could start dating again.

I could see him starting to open up to her and actually have fun. That knowledge was cemented when she splashed him and he splashed her right back, a huge grin breaking out on his russet face.

And on that note, a group of guys approached me, blocking out the sun much better than the umbrella was doing. "Can I help you?" I asked. They were eyeing me up and down shamelessly. I had to stifle an eye roll.

"We wanted to see if you and your _brother_ wanted to join our volleyball game," one guy said, pointing to the net they had set up a couple hundred yards away. Clearly they'd heard what I told their girl friends.

I'd said no to these kinds of invitations every single other time in my life, but I'd been working on my clumsiness and overall aversion to all things sports, so this time I changed my tune. Plus I'd always felt more confident when Jacob was around. "Sure, but I won't promise to be any good. Jacob's good at any sport though." I waved him in and the girl that was fawning over him followed him into shore. As I stood up, the guys saw my scar that had previously been hidden under the shadows of the umbrella and the angle at which I was laying.

They were all focusing on looking at anything but my neck, so it was obvious they were trying to be respectful, but still curious as well. "Go ahead, ask me about it," I offered.

"What happened?" the first guy who spoke to me asked. He then said his name was Jimmy. How cute. The rest of them swiveled their heads towards me, their eyes going back and forth from my face to my neck. I guessed it was better than staring at my chest. Not that I had much going on there anyway.

"Some jackass tried to take my head off, but I shanked him in the carotid before he could finish the job because I'm that fucking awesome," I replied, deciding to quote Kyle. They all gave me a look that asked, "Really?" I nodded. "Well, the story's a bit longer than that, and full of angst and tragedy, but basically yeah."

I could see that they all saw me in a different light at that point, and couldn't tell if they now saw me as "one of the guys" or if they were interested in me. I think I intimidated them too much, though. Jacob and his new growth joined us. We decided for guys vs. girls, so she had to remove herself from his side in order to play. Jacob seemed more annoyed by her than anything, but kept the happy-go-lucky grin I knew so well plastered on his face.

"That's my kid sister that's flirting with him," another guy said to me before heading to his side of the net. "I have to protect her… is he… okay?"

I couldn't help laughing. "Yes, he's the best guy I know, truly. Wouldn't hurt a fly." He seemed appeased and headed over to start the game. Jacob towered over all of them and his head nearly went over the net.

We played for about an hour before the light started to dim and it was getting too dark to play. The guys we played with offered to invite us over for a bonfire in front of the beach house they were renting, but we declined. I had to get up early to work on my next chapter, and Jacob apparently had made plans with the girl that was hanging all over him. Ruth, I'd learned was her name. That was a surprise to me. Not that I wanted him to be pining over me for the rest of time, but it seemed like he was instantly over me.

Back at my apartment, I made up the spare bed for him. He volunteered to sleep on the couch, but I knew he'd be uncomfortable, and didn't mind getting out the clean bedding and pillows for him. "This is a nice place, Bells… I mean Bella. Sorry. Old habit," he said, sheepish. I waved him off; telling him it was of no consequence. "Um, what's rent like out here?"

"It's super cheap," I answered. "I make good money now that I've got a fan-base, but for a while I was paying rent with Charlie's retirement and insurance fund. Plus the money I made selling the house."

I'd fought with Billy long and hard about selling that house. Even my mother tried to convince me to keep it. She hated Forks and everything to do with that house, so I couldn't figure out why she cared. None of them understood though. They could sympathize all they wanted, but none of them had their throat slashed after they watched their father get brutally murdered in his own bed.

Jacob and I said goodnight to each other and crawled into our respective beds. As much as I liked living alone, having him around was kinda nice. For now anyway.

* * *

A/N: If I'm remembering correctly, I don't think Alice revealed what she knew about her past to Bella until the end of New Moon, but I changed it up a bit here, so Bella would have a name she could use. It'll also come in handy when the Cullens appear later ;) thank you for reading and for your reviews. If you're already a reader of mine, you can trust that I'll stay true to my bad-ass Bella streak.

I have a LOT of tattoos, so that sparked another of my ideas for this fic, though I'd never get one across my throat. Although, if I did have a scar like Bella's maybe I would get one to show it off. My grandma has a pretty nasty scar on her neck from a botched surgery and she's always wearing turtlenecks to cover it up. I'd own that shit, if it were me.

Also, Kyle Dunbar was one of the tattoo artists on the show Ink Master. So were Sausage and Tattoo-Baby. It's a pretty good show, for reality TV. I have no idea where any of them are based out of, other than Kyle, so I put them near where Bella lives in this fic. Oh and BTW, she's living in my home town, Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. Part of the Outer Banks.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken me so long to update. My place of work has blocked , so I can't update while at work. I have fewer free hours at home, so this really put a damper in my planned weekly update schedule. But here's a new chapter, I hope it won't disappoint!

Chapter 2

Bella PoV

When I awoke, it was barely before dawn, the pre-dawn light was streaming into my bedroom, offering purple and reddish hues across the walls. I glanced through the sheer curtains to see a beautiful sunrise brewing that I knew Jacob needed to see. Living on the west coast, the land of beautiful oceanic sunsets, he'd never seen one rise on the water. It truly was a sight to behold. I scurried across the hall and into his room which was still cloaked in darkness. He had the curtains fully closed and being on the west side of the building, no light poured in at all until later in the day.

"Jake!" I whisper-shouted. "Jake! Wake up!" I repeated, even louder.

"What? What's wrong?" he mumbled. "What time is it?"

I sighed, knowing he wasn't going to like the first part of my answer. "Nearly dawn, come on, you need to see the sun rise on the ocean. It's nothing like the sun sets back home. Come on!" I tugged at his log of an arm and finally coaxed him out of bed with a lot of groaning on both our parts. He was shirtless and only in a pair of boxer briefs. I tried not to notice, but hell, I was a woman and dammit, he was nice to look at. But then, it didn't help that his hair was a mess of black spikes that pointed in every direction, reminding me of a bronze-haired god and an inky-haired pixie I once knew.

Jake followed after me, padding slowly behind me, still half-asleep. Once in my room, I waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the new light before I opened the curtains fully. The sun was about to crest over the water and he needed to see that very moment. "Okay, now watch," I said, revealing the spot where the sky met the water and a tiny spark of orange-gold light streaked across the space and filled the air with warm light. The clouds that had been tinged dark reds, magentas and blues were now turning purple and orange.

As Jake stood next to me, his eyes were glued to the horizon. "This is beautiful, Bella," he said, turning to me. "Thank you for sharing it with me." I nodded and leaned into him. He wrapped his mammoth-sized arms around me and held me close. His body was so warm when I was craving cold, but still it was comforting.

We watched the sun for a few minutes, finally turning away as the orb was complete in the sky and we'd be blinded if we watched it for too long. "Remember when you used to say I was like my own sun?" he asked.

Stifling my sigh, I nodded against his shoulder. "Yeah, you were always… are always, so warm and bright. Like the sun."

"Is that why you came all the way out here, Bella?" When I didn't respond he continued. "To chase your own sun?"

I hadn't thought of it that way, but I guess I kind of had. "I didn't want to go anywhere I had been before," I answered quietly, deciding to explain my thought process to my best friend. "Phoenix held too many memories both sad and happy, and I knew I would have drowned in them there. Jacksonville also has reminders because it was where Edward had tried to send me after the Phoenix debacle. I didn't want to go because I knew he couldn't follow me. Plus, when Edward left and I went catatonic, threatening to send me to Jacksonville was the thing that pulled me out of that state.

"I know my Mom and Phil are there, but that's not enough to get me to go there. All I'd do every day is think about how Charlie isn't with us or the one person that I know can't come find me there. Like part of me thinks he's looking for me for some reason, even though the rational side of my brain knows he isn't.

"Chicago was out because it's where he was from. The deep south is out because both Alice and Jasper are from there. Can't go to Tennessee because Emmett was from there. New York was also on the no-list due to Rosalie and England was out because of Carlisle. My choices were few if I wanted to stay in the country, you see. I thought about picking cloudy places that were likely that he or his family might visit.

"But then I realized it isn't about wanting him to find me. It's about starting over and creating a new me. I moved to a place I'd never been, and a place that he had never told me he'd been. It's cloudy here sometimes, but not often enough that they could be here for an extended period of time. I don't know anyone or anything here, so there's nothing to trigger any memories. I've learned that even when a happy memory comes to mind, it's always quickly followed by the bad ones, so I've decided to do away with that all together. This place is new, foreign, exciting, and now, it's making me that way, too."

Jake nodded. "I can tell you're different. You don't fold in on yourself when you think no one's watching you, and you seem more confident. The Bella I knew before would never in a million years have gotten so many tattoos, nor voluntarily played volleyball, much less been actually decent at it." I poked him in the ribs.

"Do you want coffee and breakfast? Or do you want to go back to sleep?" I asked. He looked out the window at the now completely blue sky. "Breakfast on the beach?" I offered. The grin that split his face was heart-warming after that serious moment. "Alright, rather than cooking, let's go down to the little nook that's right by the beach. They have great coffee, world-class bacon and great breakfast foods. You'll love it. Plus it's cheap, so a few bucks can get your dinosaur-sized appetite sated."

"Sounds like a plan, Mabs," he replied.

"Mabs?"

"Yeah, it's my new nickname for you," he stated. "M-A-B, your new initials." Huh, Mabs… I kind of liked it. Most people had taken to calling me Mary or M.A. My boss just called me Brandon because he referred to everyone by last name. My pseudonym at the paper was MA Brandon, so a few people called me "Ma" as well, due to that. As long as no one called me Alice or knew me as Bella or called me Bells, I was fine with whatever.

We dressed in comfortable clothing and headed downstairs towards the beach again. The little diner called The Nook is closed after lunch so Jake hadn't noticed it the day before. Jake sent me to find a table that had a good view while he ordered the food. The Nook had a self-serve coffee stand so I got our cups and went in search of a table. It was still early enough that not many people were there. I recognized a few that I'd seen before and gave them a friendly nod.

Jake appeared at the table a few minutes later with another huge grin on his face. "What'd you order?" I asked.

"Tall stack of pancakes and a half-a-pound of bacon with three scrambled eggs and hashbrowns for me. Oh, and something called grits that sounded interesting," he answered. "And for you, the gal said you like grits with an over-easy egg on top with wheat toast. Is that right?"

"Yep! That's perfect Jake. I didn't realize I came here often enough to have a 'usual' and be a 'regular' customer." I laughed. "I am just like my dad in that way, creature of habit and routine. Even when I'm trying not to be."

Jake laughed with me and took a sip of his coffee. "This is really good, doesn't have that burnt taste at all."

"Yeah, the owner roasts and grinds the beans herself. She has them shipped by one of those organic fair-trade growers in South America." A few minutes later, two servers stopped by our table carrying our plates. It was enough food to feed a family of six, but most of it was all Jake's.

"Hey Mary Alice," one girl greeted. "Can you grab this from my arm? I've got both arms full." I nodded and grabbed my plates from her right arm. She then had her hand free to remove two of Jake's monstrous plates and help the other server with her loaded arms. "I thought you two had more in your party. Is it really just you?" she asked.

Laughing, I replied. "Yeah, Jake's an elephant and eats like this at least three times a day." Her eyes went wide. "Well, look at him, he's a mammoth. Only without all the hair. Show her, Jake." Jake rolled his eyes but stood up from the table and straightened to his full height. The waitress gaped at him. "See? He needs to eat this much."

"Where'd you find him? The Amazon?" she asked.

"Ha! I like that one… no he's from my hometown, actually. Something in the water out there, all the guys are huge like him. We grew up together." She laughed with us and left to go about the rest of her duties. "Jake you've got to stop rubbing off on the locals. They're not going to want you to leave."

"Well maybe I don't want to leave," he replied. I choked on my coffee. "Kidding Mabs," he added. "I know this is just a visit. Besides, I have duties on the Rez anyway, and my Dad's condition isn't getting any better."

"How is Billy?" I asked.

"About the same," he replied, frowning. "Doesn't talk much, but only because he doesn't have anything to say. I think he realized after Charlie died how big a part of his life he was. With Harry gone, too, he doesn't have much to do or say these days. If he wasn't fishing with Harry, he was out with Charlie, and if he wasn't with either of them, he was telling tall-tales about the fish they'd caught on their last trip. He hasn't even touched his tackle box since he took out Charlie's favorite lure and placed it in the memorial at the funeral."

I nodded my understanding. We'd had Charlie cremated per his wishes and next to his urn which is seated at the Swan family mausoleum in Forks is a memorial box where people put treasures that reminded them of Charlie, or some of his few favorite things. He wasn't a materialistic man, so things meant little to him. You had to really know him to know which was his favorite lure, or which plaid shirt he liked best. Granted, they were the ones that showed the most use, but I could spot those that just put what they thought he liked in the box, rather than what they knew he loved. The reckless part of me wanted to kick all of those fake people out of the funeral and burn all of their "treasures." I kept still though and put thoughts of them at the back of my mind.

I'd placed a can of Vitamin R, his Seattle Mariners signed baseball, and a lock of my hair in the box. Before he died, we'd grown apart due to my rebellion, but I always knew that I was his favorite thing in the whole world. He put me above everything, even if he didn't always show it. I knew that I was the shining light in his eyes, even when I was sick with lost love or being reckless from it.

The day after the funeral was when I cut the rest of my hair. Jake had told me that in many native tribes, it was customary to cut your hair when in mourning. That cemented my decision. Smartly, I went to a salon to have it done the right way. Part of me just wanted to hack it all away with a pair of garden clippers, but luckily, my rational brain took over that decision. It seemed like I was constantly battling between reckless and rational. I stopped hearing Edward when I did stupid stuff after my dad died. Apparently the insane part of my mind disappeared at that event. From there I focused on finding things to dull the pain of their loss. The burning of the needles and the sound the tattoo gun made were just the thing I needed. I found I could concentrate on the pain of the ink being injected into my body and the buzzing would drown out my thoughts. It was a beautiful thing, and I learned a great way to express myself.

As Jake and I continued to eat our breakfast I saw a family take a seat at a table near ours. The littlest of them, a boy of about six was staring at me. I was wearing long sleeves, so it was the scar he was looking at. The mother caught him and not quietly enough scolded him for staring at the "poor girl." "It's okay. I'm used to it. He can come closer to get a better look if he like," I offered. The mother blushed in embarrassment, realizing she wasn't quiet enough.

The little boy hopped down from his booster seat and bounced over to me. His enthusiastic walking reminded me of Alice, and my breath caught in my throat. It wouldn't be good to have reminders here. Having Jake around was bad enough. I already knew I wouldn't be able to come back to this diner again. "What happened to you?" the boy asked, pointing at my scar.

"Someone tried to hurt me a long time ago," I told him. "But I'll tell you a secret." I knelt down next to him and whispered in his ear. "I'm a superhero and I defeated him and his partner."

"So they can't hurt you anymore?" he asked.

I shook my head, "They sure can't. Mot me or anyone else. But you have to keep this a secret, remember. No one else can know what I really am. Understand?" He nodded and saluted me before scurrying back to his table. The mother nodded and smiled at me, thanking me for creating a wonderful story for her son. Little did she know the only part of that story that was fake was the superhero part. And hell, if vampires and werewolves were real, why not superheroes, too?

After breakfast, Jake and I headed back to my apartment. He wanted to call his dad to let him know that everything was fine and that I was doing well. I asked him not to divulge my location nor my fake name to Billy. He was a worse gossip than the teenage girls on that show. I showed him around town a little more and told him the history of the place. He also got to see Kitty Hawk where the first airplane took flight by the Wright Brothers, and the next day we ventured down to Roanoke where we watched a play re-enacting what might have happened to the lost colony.

By the end of the third day, Jake had had enough of being a tourist and just wanted to hang out like a local. I had a chapter due, so I stayed in to work on that while Jake went down to the beach to meet up with Ruth. He told me he didn't imprint on her and therefore wouldn't lead her on. I admired that about Jake. He truly was a gentleman. Perhaps because he knew his one and only was out there somewhere and didn't want to risk breaking another woman's heart when he found her. That was why he never pursued me as hard as he wanted to. He knew that there was a possibility that he'd find her and I'd be left in the dust. I wouldn't have been able to take that kind of loss twice.

So we settled for being best of friends and that worked for the both of us. On Friday, I turned in my chapter so it could be published in the Sunday Paper. Saturday was my appointment with Kyle and Jake didn't want to stick around all day while I got inked, and he certainly didn't want to sit and watch it happen. I teased him for being squeamish, then he reminded me of my own issues with the smell of blood. Thankfully, I'd gotten over that, too when I saw the red smile cut across my Dad's neck.

Jake packed up all his stuff and left at the same time as I left for the tattoo shop. His parting statement was that he left a package for me on my bed. If I wasn't going to be late for my appointment with Kyle, I'd have run upstairs and opened it, but I'd have to live for the day with my curiosity.

Kyle was all set up and ready for me when I arrived and handed me a bottle of water. "Drink half now and then another half when we take our first break. You'll see in a few minutes, neck tattoos can be brutal. There'll be times when I have to use a good amount of pressure to stretch your skin so it'll take the ink correctly and it might give you a sensation of being strangled or unable to breath. If it gets to be too much let me know and I'll let up. You have to tell me if you're feeling uncomfortable apart from the usual pain of the tattoo itself, okay?"

I remembered that sensation when I got the tattoo on my chest. The artist had to press down on my chest to stretch the skin and it made me feel like I couldn't breath. It was very unpleasant. I had already factored that into my preparations for this project, though, so I was mentally ready for that feeling.

He showed me his finished sketch and the stencil and I was overjoyed at the result. I couldn't wait to have it immortalized on my skin. Downing half the bottle as asked, I laid down on the chair that he reclined to the right angle for him and prepared myself. First he took a razor to my skin to get any of the fine blonde hairs that grow along my neck, and then coated my skin with witch hazel before applying the stencil. Once it was properly placed he removed it and checked all the spots to make sure the design transferred to my skin just right. He had me check in the mirror to approve the placement of everything. I sat back down, more than excited to get this started. "Ready?" he asked, holding the gun in his hand.

"Fire away," I agreed. He laughed and got to work. The initial buzz of the machine sent me to my Zen place and I barely had to think at all. I concentrated on making sure I could breathe when he stretched my skin and answered him promptly whenever he checked if I was doing alright. After a couple hours, he announced break time and handed me the water bottle with a stern look that ensured I'd down the contents.

Glancing in the mirror, I saw he had the outline entirely done. It already looked amazing. I couldn't even imagine how awesome it'd be once it was completely colored and shaded. I followed him outside for the smoke break, but declined when he offered me a stick. I had tried it a few times during the worst of my rebellion, but all the teaching I had my whole life of how horrible cigarettes are had stuck, so I never made a habit of it, despite how much I knew Charlie would hate it. Once he died, I never touched them again.

"So, I can tell that you're not from here," Kyle said. We'd chatted a bit during the tattoo, but I learned it was kind of hard to speak when his hands were on my neck and he needed me still so the tattoo wouldn't turn out all shaky.

"Originally from Phoenix," I answered. "Lived in the pacific northwest with my dad for a little over a year. As you can probably guess, I moved away after he died. Traveled around a bit before settling here about eight months ago when I found a legit job."

"Oh? What do you do?"

"I'm a writer for the Outer Banks Press," I answered. "I submit chapters weekly of a novel I've been writing. When it's all done, I'll be officially published and the paper will help me get it out in hardcover. Heck of a deal, if you ask me. The boss says that I make people want to buy the paper every week. They make more money on the people that buy them from newsstands than the ones who subscribe, so there are plenty of people that pay the buck fifty every Sunday just to read my chapter."

"Damn girl, you must be a hell of a writer."

I shrugged. "I guess so. But the reading pool here is a lot smaller than it would be in a bigger city. My boss told me that some of the readers are suggesting the paper to their out-of-town friends, and they are sharing it with their friends, so it's slowly spreading across the state and beyond. As long as I'm getting paid enough to survive, doing what I love, then I don't care about the fame."

"True enough," he replied. "I liked being on Ink Master, it was a fun experience and I learned a lot more about myself as a person and an artist than I bargained for, but there are days when I wish I didn't get recognized almost everywhere I go. Gone are the days of having an off-the-wall walk-in appointment. Now every session is scheduled ahead of time and I know what I'm getting into long before the canvas even walks in the door. I still love tattooing more than anything, and I'm making more money than I ever did before, but still, sometimes I miss the anonymity of being the guy that happened to be working when a walk-in appointment showed up, you know?"

"Well, I can understand that, though I have no experience to empathize with," I said with a laugh.

"You will if your readers ever figure out who you are," he replied. "Ready to keep going?" he asked, looking closely at my neck. "Jeez, you're a bleeder," he joked.

"Yeah, easy bleeder and easy bruiser. Always have been." I didn't get choked up at the memories that statement triggered. Well, that was progress.

After another six grueling hours and a couple more breaks, the tattoo was finished. Kyle helped me take a couple pictures of it before he bandaged me up and sent me on my way. I gave him a hefty tip and thanked him for the beautiful work. "Be sure to send that pic to Sausage," he said on my way out. "He'll want to see my badassery."

"Ha! Will do, Kyle. Thanks again!" I donned my helmet, careful to adjust the strap above my bandage and rode away from the shop. It wasn't until I was turning on my street that I remembered the package that Jacob said he left on my bed. I quickly covered my bike as the forecast predicted rain, and raced up the stairs to my apartment. The old me would have tripped at least three times in my hurry, but my new more confident self ran up them gracefully.

A piece of paper was lying next to the box with Jake's handwriting on it.

Bells, Gah.. I mean Mabs… Sorry.

I got a call from the people that bought Charlie's house and they said the found something in your old room and asked me to return it to you since you left no forwarding address. I let them know I would as soon as I found you myself. I had to see what it was before I brought it along in my search for you, in case it was something I knew you wouldn't care about or if it was something you needed. I'm still not sure on that front since you're still pretty guarded about it. But the fact that you don't cringe when you say Edward's name anymore tells me you're at least ready to see it. They said they found these things hidden under a floorboard in your room. I don't know if you put them there or if he did, but either way. I think it should be on you to keep these things or throw them away. It could be a … what's a word you'd use… cathartic experience. See, now you're rubbing off on me… happy?

I love you, Bella. I hope you'll be okay with these things. If not, gimme a call and tell me to fuck off or something, he he.

I hope to see or hear from you soon,

Jake.

I didn't have a clue what could possibly be in the box, but somehow I knew that whatever it was had to be connected to Edward and/or the Cullens in some way. With shaking fingers, I set the paper down and picked up the box. It seemed innocuous enough, just a wooden box with a hinged latch on it. As if there was a snake inside about to bite me, I carefully opened the lid, averting my eyes before turning back towards it to inspect the contents.

Inside was something I thought I'd never see again. The missing photos from my album. The ones that had Edward's face in them. And the plane ticket vouchers that Carlisle and Esme had given me. They were long since expired. Underneath the photos was a folded up piece of paper with my name written on it in the elegant script that I'd know anywhere.

Bella,

If you've found this, then you've found the photos I took from you. I couldn't bear to not leave a small part of myself behind, however hidden it may be. Depending on when you find this, we've either just left or have been gone a while, and that may affect your reaction to this discovery. I am truly sorry for any hurt I've ever caused you and I hope you can forgive me some day, should we ever meet again.

Edward.

Oh hell, cue the waterworks. Tears streamed down my face and hit the paper, smudging the ink. I quickly set the letter down and away from my eyes so it wouldn't be ruined further. That bastard. I was so upset that he took these photos from me, thus removing any physical memories I had of him. I was angry with him for thinking that removing the physical evidence of his existence would actually get me to forget about him. He was utterly unforgettable. Was it his own existence that he didn't see clearly or did he really think that little of my own mind's ability to keep his thoughts at the surface?

And even if I could ever forget him as a result of the photos and other things being gone, I still had the blasted scar on my wrist from James biting me and more importantly from Edward himself sucking the venom back out of me. Kind of hard to forget an experience like that. My mind is like a sieve he said, puh-lease. My anger was renewed after reading his note. If only he could have just put the photos in the box and left no letter, I probably would have felt better about it.

Part of me wished I could see him again just so I could take this letter, crumple it up, and shove it down his throat. Cocky bastard.

A/N: I know Edward didn't leave a note (as far as we know) in New Moon, but I decided to go a little off-book on this part, too. I think if Jacob had just found the pictures and nothing else, he'd have thrown them away. But coupled with the letter, he knew that Bella deserved that little bit of closure it might offer. Clearly, it didn't offer any closure, and Bella just might start to get a bit more reckless, but we'll just have to wait and see. I will try and update a bit more often, if I can. With my work blocking the site, it makes it hard for me to find the time at home.. this chapter I wrote while at work, then printed it off and brought it home to re-type. I can't even send or receive emails between my work email and personal one, nor can I access my work email from home. I also can't transfer files to a flash drive or anything… only option is to print and re-type… ugh… I work in the medical field, so I get the reason for all the security, but still… I get my best ideas while I'm working and like to write them down.

*teaser from the next chapter*

As I entered the saloon, I had the eerie feeling that I was being watched. A feeling I hadn't had in a very long time. It wasn't like when people stared at my scar or my tattoos, but like when James looked at me. Like I was prey. I chanced a look at the corner where I could sense the people were and stopped in my tracks. Vampires. Two of them. And if their violet contacts told me anything… they weren't vegetarians, and from the look on their faces, I was dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm back already! Had some technological luck this week, so I was able to post faster than I have been. For those of you reading my other stories, I hope to have those updated by the week's end.

Enjoy!

Chapter 3

"Alice, someone is already using your given name," Carlisle announced. Everyone gathered around the computer seeing that a Mary Alice Brandon was residing in Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. Using Alice's birthdate as well, though the year was different.

"Does it merit investigation?" Jasper asked, looking to Alice for guidance. She closed her eyes, focusing on her visions, but nothing came.

She shook her head. "I have no idea. I can't see anything. Whoever is using my name isn't someone we know, most likely. It could be a coincidence right? Maybe they pulled my information from an old obituary or something?"

Everyone looked at each other for answers, but no one had any. A decision had to be made. Investigate or pick a different name. Alice had never been able to use her given name, as she didn't know it until a couple years before. SHe was excited at the possibility, only to have it taken away from her. Sure she could use it, but the family was planning to relocate only a couple states away from the other Mary Alice Brandon, and it might seem suspicious if word got out somehow. Secrecy was key in the vampire world.

Bella PoV

All the progress I'd made on getting over Edward was completely shattered when I looked at his face in the photos. My hallucinatory Edwards did him absolutely no justice. He was beautiful and I missed him more now than I ever had before. Had he walked in right after I read his note, I might have taken him back, but after all that's happened and the time that has passed, I didn't think that was a likelihood. He'd have some serious groveling to do to even get back in my good graces, let alone in my bed again. Not like we ever did anything in that blasted twin bed other than kiss chastely and hold each other.

My tattoo was starting to ache, the adrenaline wearing off and pain taking its place. I took a couple advil with another full glass of water and crawled into bed, but not before putting the photos and both notes into the wooden box and burying it under the mountain of sneakers and boots in my closet. Sleep offered little relief to my emotions as all I could think of before falling asleep was Edward's face. I could see the way his hair glinted in the candlelight from the overly huge birthday cake, and the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at me. In the pictures that followed birthday-gate, the sparkle was gone from his eyes. He looked withdrawn and depressed.

Not once in the time since he left me stranded on the path did I think he was lying to me when he said he didn't want me. Now that I was looking back on that exchange, I couldn't help but discern the tiniest bit of dishonesty in his voice as those horrible words left his lips. He wouldn't even look me in the eye as he said them, and that alone told me that he wasn't being entirely truthful. The words themselves only brought to light all of my own insecurities at the time, so I had no trouble believing him. I had worried about not being good enough for him and I had no idea what he saw in me. He told me he didn't want me and that I wasn't good for him. It was everything I felt to be true blurted right out in the open. Of course I believed him.

Since being on my own, my self-confidence and self-esteem were at an all-time high. I was starting to really see myself the way others saw me. Tattoos, scar, and all. I was a catch, and now I knew it.

While I had never been in a relationship since Edward, I had gone on a few dates here and there. Never more than a couple with any one guy, though. And I never let it get beyond kissing. For some irrational reason, I was still saving that for Edward, and whenever I would feel warm lips on mine, I'd wish they were cold. Perhaps I had an addiction or a condition of some kind. Or even a complex, who knew?

Once morning came, I went downstairs and bought the paper, not even bothering to read it, but sticking it my keepsake chest. I liked to keep all my chapters in the original publication format. When the book was completely published in the paper, I planned to put them all into a scrapbook. Before heading back inside, I stopped at the java hut on the corner and got a coffee with a pastry. I wanted to go to The Nook, but the anonymity of that had been taken away from me by Jacob. Not that I blamed him, of course, but I didn't like reminders of my life before becoming Mary Alice Brandon. Even though that in itself was a reminder.

I spent the day on my little balcony, soaking in the sun and trying to work on my next chapter. The book I was writing was a murder mystery set in the nineteen-twenties, and all I could think about was what happened nearly three years earlier when I was abandoned in the woods by Edward.

Until that point, every time I thought of that horrid conversation, I focused on the words coming out of his mouth, and never on the expression on his face. And perhaps I was hallucinating again, but I couldn't shake the thought that he was lying to my face. That he had been telling the truth all along about how much he loved me and how much I was his reason for existence.

Not that it mattered anyway, the Bella he loved was long gone and I had no idea where to find him even if I wanted to. Whether or not I wanted to became the question of the day.

By nightfall, I still hadn't gotten a damn thing done and decided it was time to visit the night-life in the Outer Banks. During my tattoo session the day before, Kyle had mentioned that he liked going to the Karaoke nights at the Jolly Roger. He said it was "hopping" every night of the week, so I decided I'd check it out for myself.

After cleaning my new tattoo again and applying the balm, I changed into a pair of black skinny jeans with a dark purple corset top. I pulled on my leather riding boots with the spikes on the heel and donned my leather jacket. The Jolly Roger was only a few blocks away, but I wanted to arrive in style, plus if I rode there, I'd have to force myself not to drink too much so I could get home at the end of the night.

I drove to the bar with Edward on my mind, hoping I could surround myself with booze and merriment and forget about him for a few hours. At least long enough to finish my next chapter before I began wallowing in my own misery again. I hadn't touched alcohol since Charlie died, but now was as good a time as any to start it up again. Even when I did drink before, I always stopped before I got to the point of black-out drunk. Once again, Charlie's teachings were burned into my psyche even when I was trying to break all the rules. Plus, it didn't help that Edward's voice had been constantly telling me not to have any more drinks.

There were a couple of Harleys parked near the door, so I decided to park my baby next to theirs. I locked the helmet onto the seat, took a deep breath and headed for the door. As I entered the saloon, I had the eerie feeling that I was being watched. A feeling I hadn't had in a very long time. It wasn't like when people stared at my scar or my tattoos, but like when James looked at me. Like I was prey. I chanced a look at the corner where I could sense the people were and stopped in my tracks. Vampires. Two of them. And if their violet contacts told me anything… they weren't vegetarians, and from the look on their faces, I was dinner.

"Leave them be," a velvet voice chirped into my ear. It was so crisp and clear, I half-expected him to be standing there. A subtle glance to my left confirmed that I was merely hallucinating again. Awesome. Nearly two years without a sound, and now he was back again. Damn him and his stupid photos and the stupid letter! It'll be as if I never existed, my pale white ass, I thought. Also, in my history, when has a vampire ever left me be? Why should I do them the same courtesy?

I strode to the bar, pulling my ID out of my back pocket and ordered a double shot of whiskey. "Rough day?" the bartender asked.

"Rough couple of years, but yeah," I replied. I decided to unzip and remove my jacket, which would then put all my tattoos on display for all the bar to see, including the two vampires in the corner that I could still feel watching me.

"Wow! That's some nice ink!" he complimented. "Where'd you get it all done at?"

"Mostly by a guy named Sausage. He's based in Ohio," I answered. "But this one I just got done yesterday here in town by Kyle Dunbar. He's visiting from Illinois." I pointed at my neck. He leaned over and got a good look at it, gulping when he saw the scar.

"That's ah… that's some nice work, too. Interesting scar you have there."

I giggled. "You're the first person to call it interesting. I guess getting a tattoo to go with it was a good idea."

"Certainly a conversation piece," he agreed. "I know Kyle though, He's been coming in most nights for Karaoke. The guy can sing, believe it or not."

I shook my head. "For real? I'd have never pictured that. He's the one who told me about this place, so you have him to thank for my patronage. I'm normally an early morning person and am in bed by the time bars get busy, but like you said, today was a rough day, so here I am. Liquid therapy, right?" I downed the profferred shotglass and promptly ordered another. "I am driving tonight, so I probably won't have more than this," I assured him when he saw me down the second glass.

I paid the tab, gave him a large tip and walked away. I stopped and looked towards the Karaoke stage and took a look around for Kyle, but he hadn't arrived yet from what I could tell. Liquid therapy and courage coursing through my body, I turned on my heel and headed towards the vampires that Halluci-Ward had warned me to leave alone. As I strode towards them, his voice did not return. Either the Whiskey was working or I wasn't sensing the danger anymore. That was probably a bad thing, but I didn't really care.

"Evening fellas," I greeted, standing at their table.

"Why hello miss, please join us," the blonde one said. His voice was thick with a drawl that told me he was a southern boy, born and bred. "I"m Peter and this is Garrett," he added, introducing himself. He slid over to give me room to sit at their booth. "And who are you, lovely lady?"

"Everyone calls me M.A." I answered. "You guys don't seem like you're from around here. What brings you to the Outer Banks?"

"Change of scenery," Garrett replied. He had a hint of a british accent in his voice, so I wondered where he was originally from as well. "What brings you here tonight? We've been here all week, haven't seen you." I knew they'd have heard my exchange with the bartender, but I didn't need to let on just yet that I knew that, too.

"I'm not normally out so late. Had kind of a rough day today, so I figured I'd finally check out the nightlife around here. I've been living here for a few months now."

"What do you do?" Garrett asked.

I looked down at my hands, deciding quickly how much to tell them. "I'm a columnist at the local paper," I answered. "Mystery stories." They both commended me and said they'd look for me in the paper. "Last name's Brandon, so you'll find me easily by M.A. Brandon in there." Peter flinched slightly at that. Curious.

"Where are you from?" Peter asked.

"Phoenix," I answered shortly. I didn't want to divulge too much information in case they knew the Cullens.

"Well, I'm originally from Texas," Peter said. "My brother Jasper and I left the state some time ago." I couldn't hide my reaction when he said the name Jasper. I knew he was from Texas, too. "You just flinched at my brother's name. What's with that?"

"I ah, knew a Jasper a while back is all. Not a name you hear very often so it surprised me, plus you kind of look like him, so that added to the weirdness," I lied smoothly.

Peter narrowed his eyes at me, as if assessing my statement. "Fair enough. Last name's Whitlock. What was his last name?"

I actually had to think about that for a moment. "Um, Hale I think," I answered, remembering that he was using Rosalie's surname when I knew them.

"Jasper's last name is Hale," Peter replied. "He lived in Washington state, though; you said you were from Phoenix," Peter pressed.

"I am from Phoenix, but my dad lived in Forks, Washington. I stayed with him from when I was a Junior in high school. That's where I knew Jasper from." Dammit! I didn't want them to know this much! Why was I just spilling all my secrets to these two? !" I didn't know him well," I added. "He went to the same high school as I did for a little while."

Peter frowned, pensive. "Did you meet the rest of his crazy family?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Kind of. I think I had a class with one of his brothers. Edmund or something. I moved there in the middle of Junior year and they moved away right after the beginning of Senior year, so I didn't know them well. They kept to themselves mostly. Jasper had already graduated along with some of the others in their family, I think, at the end of Junior year. Just the Ed-something guy and one of the girls were still there at the beginning of senior year. Then they packed up and moved away rather abruptly, I remember. The rumor was that the doctor needed a higher paying salary than what Forks Hospital could provide. I never cared enough to learn any more." I surprised myself at how convincing I was sounding. "I imagine you know them all rather well. You must have been older when Jasper got adopted by that family."

"Yeah, we're a few years apart," Peter answered. "I'd have taken him in myself, but I was trying to put myself through college, and didn't make enough money to support myself and my brother." He lied better than I did, but then again, I was pretty sure all vampires were experts at it. "So what's your story?" he asked.

"Just take a look at all my ink," I replied. "Pretty much sums up my whole life. I put my arms on display for him to inspect. They both looked closely at them and before I could stop him, Peter turned my right arm upwards and saw my bite scar from James. I'd had it tattooed over as best as I could. Sausage couldn't get the needles to even break the skin there, let alone let any ink stay. We opted for a sun and moon shape there to help hide the pair of crescent shaped scars as best we could, and humans never noticed them, but to the keen vampire eye, they'd stand out.

"You've got some interesting scars, M.A," Peter mused. "Where'd this one come from?" he asked, pointing at my wrist. I realized belatedly that I hadn't flinched at the temperature of his skin… he'd noticed that, too.

I shrugged again. "No idea. I was attacked one night in Phoenix a few years ago. Don't remember what happened. I woke up in a hospital having had a few blood transfusions as I lost a lot of blood, a broken leg, cuts all over, and these marks on my wrist." Most of that was true. I'd blocked out much of what James did to me, and everything after he bit me was a complete blur.

"And that one?" Garrett asked, pointing at my neck. "That ink must be new, too, right?"

"Yeah, just got it done yesterday, actually," I replied. "I wanted the piece to highlight the scar, rather than hide it. My um… my father was murdered in our house one night. I walked right in on the act." The two vampires gasped. "The attackers saw me and tried to kill me, too. Clearly they failed."

"I'll say," Peter and Garrett replied in unison. We fell into fits of laughter at that. For vampires, they were actually rather relaxed and fun to hang out with. The Cullens always seemed so uptight and reserved, even when they supposedly welcomed me into their family. Alice was the most relaxed around me.

I didn't know if it was the alcohol or something else, but Peter and Garrett weren't as off-putting as James, Victoria, and Laurent were. Could have something to do with the contacts, too, I figured. At any rate, I still had no idea if they had any intention of letting me live to see the next day. But given the fact that I let on that I sort of knew Peter's brother, I thought that might just save my life. And now, they'd seen that I'd survived at least one vampire attack in my life, perhaps that worked in my favor as well.

"May we buy you another round?" Garrett offered.

I glanced at my watch. "Nah, I'd better not. I drove here and I'd like to drive home, so I should stop at just the two drinks I had at the bar. But thank you for offering."

He nodded. "Fair enough. How about a dance, then?" he asked. He pointed to the dance floor. The latest singer was about to do Raise Your Glass by Pink, so it was a fitting song to dance to. I nodded my agreement and followed him to the dance floor.

Peter stayed behind and kept an eye on our drinks, or so he said. Yeah, kept an eye on my empty glass and their two full ones that they were pretending to nurse since they arrived. Garrett found an empty space on the dance floor and began dancing. I moved with him, following his movements and dancing in sync with him. Dancing turned out to be much easier than I ever made it out to be before. I think I used to let my self-consciousness get in the way of actually having fun. Now that I was leagues more confident and at the moment had whiskey coursing through my veins, I wasn't half bad.

The next song began, a slow song and Garrett moved seamlessly into the new rhythm and stepped closer to me. He wrapped one hand around my waist and grasped my hand with the other. I looked up at him tentatively, biting my lip. "No harm in a single dance, M.A," he admonished. "You don't seem to mind the cold," he said, squeezing my hand slightly.

"Poor circulation?" I guessed. He smiled and nodded. "My uncle had that same problem," I added, lying smoothly again. "His hands were always like ice, even in the hot summer of Phoenix." I reveled in the feel of his cold skin against mine. Garrett was handsome, of course, like all vampires, but he wasn't Edward. Even though his skin felt more or less the same, the spark of electricity was absent. I hadn't realized it until that very moment, but that's what I had been missing all this time.

"We'd actually better get going," Peter said, stepping up to us as the song came to an end. "We have a full day of sightseeing planned for tomorrow." I had to hide my laughter at that. The sun was going to be out all day, and I was sure they knew that already.

"Yeah, I should head home, too. Thanks for the dance, Garrett! Perhaps we'll meet again sometime." Perhaps you'll follow me home and drain me before I can make it to my door, I thought to myself.

"The pleasure was truly all mine," he replied, taking my hand and bringing to his lips. A cool kiss pressed against the back of my hand and I was immediately transported to a moment when Edward did that. At the time I was contemplating electrical currents flowing between two people and couldn't be bothered with wondering why his lips were so cold. Now, all I felt was the cold and the blatant absence of the current. I bit my lip in frustration, but Garrett took it as desire, I think as he then leaned in and kissed my cheek. "Until next time."

"Uh huh," I mumbled, half-coherently. Surely he thought it was due to their inherent vampire charm, but my mind was on other things altogether. I went over to the booth, grabbed my jacket and followed the pair outside.

It dawned on me then that this might be the moment where they abscond with me to parts unknown. So far, they were heading to their own vehicle and not paying me any mind other than to compliment my bike and say goodnight again. So following me home it was, then. Please don't get blood on my motorcycle, I thought at them, wishing my mind was open to them like it never was to Edward. Wait until I'm home and have dismounted before you attack me; I'd like for Jacob to not have to clean the bike up too much when he inherits it from me.

Peter PoV

"Tell me again why we're going to this bar for the fifth time this week," Garrett whined.

I rolled my eyes. "I've told you a thousand times, I don't know why. I just know we need to be here and that something is going to happen. Can't tell you what or who's involved."

"Well, why can't I go hunt alone while you sit and pretend to be food for a while?"

I groaned. "Because, Garrett. My gut tells me we both need to be there. Again, I don't know why… it's just a feeling. If I could explain it, I would." Garrett whined again as we made our way into the bar and to our now usual booth. I went and got a couple whiskey sours for us to hold on to and went back to the booth. We'd been there every night that week, waiting for something. I didn't know what, I just knew that I needed to be in that bar until the gut feeling went away.

As if on cue, the atmosphere changed, and the deep feeling in the pit of my forever empty stomach began to disappear. The door opened, revealing a young girl. She shook out her hair as if having just removed a helmet and sauntered over to the bar. As the door closed, a gust of air blew her scent right at us. Strawberries and freesia. I'd never smelled anything like it before. Garrett and I both took deep breaths in, reveling in the magical scent that surrounded this girl.

Did I really have one of my premonitions, or whatever they are, due to a meal? Granted, I figured she'd be the most delicious thing I'd tasted in a century, but still. If she was innocent, she was off limits, though. When Jasper, Charlotte, and I left Maria, or rather escaped, we decided to never hunt the innocents again. There were plenty of humans out there that deserved to die, so the feeding pool wasn't really shrinking as time went on.

Garrett licked his lips. "That's got to be the most delectable thing I've ever smelled, or seen for that matter. Man, look at her! She's stunning!" I agreed with him wholeheartedly as we both eyed her shamelessly. She was petite but had curves in all the right places. Tight black jeans with black leather riding boots and a leather jacket. It must have been her bike we heard arriving a few moments before. As if she sensed us ogling her, she turned slowly and looked at us. Her face was just as pretty as the rest of her, big brown eyes framed by burgundy hair, pouty lips and a cute nose. As she spotted us, recognition flitted across her eyes followed by a tiny dose of fear. Did she know what we were? She turned away again and headed towards the bar.

"Does she know what we are?" Garrett asked, mirroring my thoughts. I shrugged in response. We'd have to find out for sure, one way or another. And it seemed like either way, she wasn't going home alive.

As she exchanged pleasantries with the bartender and ordered drinks, she took off her jacket. Underneath was a built frame covered in tattoos. Both of her arms, all of her back from what I could tell, and based on the conversation she was having, even her neck was covered. Hot Damn. If I didn't have Charlotte waiting at home for me… oh the things I would do to this little thing.

She downed two drinks as if she'd been dying of thirst and then, citing liquid therapy, she left the bar and headed straight for us. Humans shied away from us instinctively. Even though we were physically attractive to them, they always gave us a wide berth. Yet here this little spitfire was sitting at our booth and chatting us up as if we were her neighbors.

M.A. Brandon… the name was too much of a coincidence coupled with the fact that she knew Jasper. I wanted to know what M.A. stood for, but there wasn't a moment where I could ask without sounding like I was fishing for information. It was only a couple years ago that Jasper and Alice visited us in Georgia, since Alice had found out her human history and it led her to Mississippi. She had found out that her human name was Mary Alice Brandon. It was just too much of a coincidence for this young girl to not have been connected with the Cullens in some way.

She flinched when I mentioned my brother, and not in a way that said she just recognized the name, but she actually knew him. Much more than passing him in the halls in high school. She had interacted with him. As far as I knew, Jasper hadn't slipped in his animal diet in quite some time, so I didn't think it was him that left the scar on her wrist. She had lied about that, too, though she thought we believed her. M.A. definitely knew we were vampires, she knew exactly what left that scar on her wrist. Hell, the only thing she was truthful about was her dad's death.

Garrett apparently developed a crush on her and asked her to dance. I could tell he realized she wasn't going to be dinner either, so he kept it PG and opted not to lure her out of the bar and into a dark alley somewhere.

After we left the bar, I knew I needed to get a hold of Jasper. That girl was the catalyst to my gut feeling, and it wasn't because she was going to be my next meal. Once we were back at our temporary apartment, I called Jasper.

"Peter? Long time no talk. How's it going?" he asked. I could hear the pixie in the background mentioning that she hadn't seen me decide to call. That was a bit odd. It wasn't a last second decision by any means. "Apparently Alice can't see you, I'm supposed to tell you."

"Yeah, I heard," I replied. "No clue why that is, unless it has something to do with a girl I met tonight?"

"What girl?" Jasper asked.

"She knew you," I told him. "She said she went to high school with you in Forks."

"What's her name?"

I took a deep breath. "Well, I'm pretty sure it's fake, but she told us her name is M.A. Brandon." The gasp from the other end told me they had an idea of who I'd just met. "I think you two better get out here." I gave them the address and said I'd pick them up at the airport the next night. Alice said she knew I wouldn't, but to please not let on to anyone else in their family. I didn't even have their numbers, so that wasn't possible. I knew coming to North Carolina in the dead of summer would pay off, one way or another.

A/N: So… Peter and Garrett! I couldn't leave them out of this fic. I've read so many where they are more active characters and just adore them. There'll be no romance between Bella and Garrett for those of you that are die hard BellaxEdward fans. Also be warned, while Bella does still love Edward more than anything and will take him back, he'll have to work HARD to get back into her good graces… it's not going to happen so easily like it did in New Moon.

teaser from chapter 4.

It's all fun and games until your past catches up to you. Strange how I had just written that sentence down for my next chapter only to hear my doorbell ring, look up through the window and see Alice and Jasper standing on the other side.


	4. Chapter 4

Here's an update! Switching up the PoV a bit here... reintroducing the Cullens!

Chapter 4

Carlisle PoV

"This Mary Alice Brandon in Kill Devil Hills is a writer for their local paper," Emmett announced after doing some investigative work into the girl that had our Alice's name. "Looks like she started at the paper a few months ago. I mean, there aren't any entries by her before then, so either she got promoted from the mailroom or something, or she'd just gotten hired at that time. Her articles are more like chapters in a book. Each week a new chapter is published and over the course of a few months, she's nearly completed this novel."

"What's it about?" Esme asked.

Emmett scanned a few of the online version of the articles. "They've only got excerpts posted here, I suppose since they want you to actually buy the paper, not just read it for free on line. But from what I can gather, it's a murder mystery. The beginning actually sounds pretty damn good."

Then he began reading aloud. "This is a brand new diary, so I'll re-introduce myself like I do in every diary. By day, I'm a chronic day-dreamer. I like to be alone most of the time so I can simply pretend I'm somewhere else that's more interesting than my own life, or with people that I find more interesting than my own friends and family. By night, my dreams are vivid and realistic most of the time. On the occasion that I do realize I'm dreaming, I'm usually so disappointed it's not real that it wakes me up, which of course fuels my ire.

"Occasionally, my dreams are so vivid that I have tactile memory of various sensations or events that occurred during the dream. One of these such dreams happened last night. I woke up from it remembering exactly what it felt like, and feeling relieved that I didn't like the sensation.

"This surprised me considering I wasn't aware that I was worried about liking what it felt like to kill someone. In the dream - and I can't remember why, or what the circumstances were, or even who the victim was - I killed someone. I remember breaking his neck then stabbing him in the chest only to hit the sternum, then stabbing again slightly to the side and watching as blood filled the cavity that I'd cut open on him. Afterwards, I felt what may be described as a 'killer's high' only I very strongly dislike being high so it was a very unpleasant sensation for me, and not one I'd like to feel again.

"From what I can remember about the dream, It was set on a college campus, though not one that I recognized. I was a student, I think, going through med school. I know that I had to kill this person, but I can't remember why or who he was. All I can remember is that he was graying and balding. The act of killing him is burned into my memory though. The feeling of his neck breaking and the pressure of the knife in my hand are both things that I cannot get out of my head. I suppose it doesn't help that I'm now writing this down, either.

"And while some may just brush the dream off as watching too many crime dramas on television or having read a murder mystery recently, I can't help shake the feeling that I truly wanted to know what it would feel like to kill someone and my dream answered that question. During my endless daydreams, I never killed anyone. And yes, I know they're not real events, dreams and daydream. No matter how vivid they are, I do know they're not real, I'm not that delusional. However, my social anxiety mixed with my lack of empathy and now this dream have me wondering if I just might be a psychopath."

"Well, that certainly has me wanting to read more," I commented. Everyone looked at me strangely. Everyone but Edward, that is. "What? I like novels like that."

"Me, too," Emmett added. "I wanna go find this chick just so I can get my hands on what she's written so far. Excerpts are for the birds."

A change of scenery was just what this family needed. We'd moved around more often since abandoning Bella Swan, and never could quite find a home anywhere we went. It didn't seem to matter if the kids were in high school, college, or found jobs. Nothing could make us stay in any one place for more than a few months. Jasper had it the worst of us all. He'd feel all of our depression and then magnify it with his own guilt over what happened. Alice assured him that Bella never blamed him, and neither did anyone else in the family, but he blamed himself. No amount of reassurance would change that. But I felt that if he could somehow hear the words right from Bella's mouth, that he'd be somewhat assuaged.

Eventually, it was decided that just Alice and Jasper would venture to the Outer Banks to investigate this Mary Alice Brandon impersonator and see if she was really connected to us or if it was just a very strange coincidence. After Emmett's discovery, Alice and Jasper had made themselves scarce. Once upon a time it would have been so they could have some privacy while getting intimate, but lately it was so Alice could have a vision of Bella without letting Edward see it. He'd forbidden her to look for Bella's future, and she abided by that, but that didn't always stop the visions from coming to her unbidden.

She never shared what she saw with us, either because it was of no consequence, or she didn't want us to mourn our loss even more. I kept telling her she didn't need to bear that burden alone, but she'd just brush off my words, flash her enthusiastic grin and tell me not to worry about it.

"Carlisle, can I speak with you?" she asked, upon returning. "Um, privately?" she added, chancing a glance at Edward who was staring at his piano's keys, as if waiting for them to start playing themselves. That's about all he did anymore, was stare at the piano and never speak to anyone. I nodded at my daughter and followed her out the door. We ran through the forest just far enough to be out of range of Edward's ability. As it was, he paid us no mind as we left the house, not even acknowledging our presence, as was the norm.

"What is it Alice? Is it about Bella?" I asked.

"No… yes… I don't know. Carlisle, I really haven't had a vision of Bella since shortly after we left her. As you know, my visions are based on decisions, and I figured she simply wasn't making any. I think, like Edward is doing now, she was simply going through the motions of existence, but not really existing." She'd summed up Edward's behavior to a T.

I furrowed my brows. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I've had visions that felt like Bella, but I never actually saw her in them, or anything that would convince me that they were her. And they're always really blurry and brief. I leave the house so Edward doesn't see them, but not so he gets a glimpse of Bella, but so I can try and pull more out of them. I know I promised I wouldn't look for her, but I have been. And I can't find her. Like I said, every now and then, I have a vision that's tinged with her… essence… but there's never anything in it to prove to me that it's about her.

"But Carlisle, I can't help this feeling that something's wrong. That she's hurt or something. I don't know… I remember seeing her really upset once or twice not long after we left, but for the most part she was blank to me. As I said before, I don't think she was really making any conscious decisions. And now, I can't see anything at all, except for these confusing little flashes."

"And you think going to Kill Devil Hills will answer these questions?" I pressed.

She nodded. "Bella was the only one outside of our family that learned my real name and knew my birthday. Who else could it possibly be? I can't fathom why she'd change her name like that, but there has to be a really good reason, right? I mean, maybe she figured we'd find out that my name was being used and that we'd find her. Maybe she wants us to find her!"

"That's a lot of maybes, dear," I told her. "But they could very well be valid. Go with Jasper and keep your distance until you know for sure that it's Bella and that she actually wants to see us. And be damn sure you know if she even wants to see Edward. Something tells me that what he told her to convince her that he wanted to break up with him was not entirely true or kind." She nodded, looking away towards the house.

"We'll leave tonight. We can get there by tomorrow evening, then," she stated. "We'll keep a low profile and only approach her if absolutely necessary."

Once we got home, Jasper was on the phone with his old friend Peter. Alice ran over to him, bellowing about how she hadn't seen him decide to call. They left the house again, leaving Edward in the dark about the content of their conversation.

Ever since he broke up with Bella, he'd been a shell of a man. Going through the motions, as Alice said. My opinion was that once he'd found Bella, there was no being without her. I'd tried to tell him as much, but he wouldn't hear of it. He was convinced that his absence from her life was what was best for her. But what about what was best for him? I'd pressed that query as well only to be told that he wouldn't be selfish and keep her around just because he wanted her. I don't think he saw the depth of her love for him. Another point I'd tried to make with him, but was met with the rebuttal of that her mind was like a sieve and she'd soon forget all about him. I doubted that very strongly.

We'd long gotten used to seeing the statue that looked like my son sitting at the piano, but never playing it. As a result, we'd also become well-versed in our ability to coax him out of the house every couple of weeks to feed. I've no doubt that he would literally become a statue, devoid of blood, if not for our insistence that he stay "hydrated." Shortly after Alice and Jasper left on their adventure, I did just that, having to practically drag him out of the house. He never resisted of course, but he never helped much, either. As became routine, I found a couple deer for him, broke their necks, cut the vein with my fingernail and held the animal up to his mouth. He'd stay still for a long time until the scent of the blood got to him and he'd eventually sink his teeth in. He never drank more than two animals, and rarely anything other than deer.

I kept my thoughts to myself, but I couldn't help but hope that Alice and Jasper did find Bella, and that she'd by some miracle want us all back in her life. It was the only way to save my son, I feared. "Alright, Edward. Let's head back to the house and get you cleaned up." He followed behind me obediently, but never acknowledged my words in any other way, nor even made eye contact with me. I got him into his bathroom and helped him into the shower. From there, I had to do little other than make sure he remembered to dry off and put clothes back on when he was done.

I hoped Alice did find Bella and could bring her back to us here, or something. North Carolina was rather sunny most of the time, so it wouldn't be good for us to relocate there. Gatlinburg was bad enough, but Esme assured us that our house in the mountains was completely covered over by trees, and that I would work nights at the hospital there and the kids would take night classes at the local college. We'd never have to be seen during the day. In fact, Edward wasn't even going to enroll in school, considering he had no will to even get up take a shower, let alone hunt, or think, or do anything.

Esme was beside herself about Edward. I'd see her stand behind him at the piano and run a brush through his ever unruly hair. An act that he used to enjoy, now he didn't even move or make a sound when she did it. Sighing audibly, she set the brush down and stepped out of the house and to the garden to prune the already pristine plants and flowers there. We'd never had more perfect gardens than in the last two years. I'd join her sometimes, to simply keep her company, but even that seemed forced. Everything used to be so easy, as easy as breathing. But ever since Bella was out of our lives, nothing was easy or simple.

A couple days had passed and we hadn't heard hide nor hair from Alice and Jasper. Impatient, I called Alice's phone. "Can't talk Carlisle," she whispered. "We're on to something here." She hung up without letting me get a word in and then turned her phone off, denying my ability to call her back. I tried Jasper's phone as well, but it too went to voicemail. I left them both messages, asking them to please get back to me as we were all worried.

* * *

Bella PoV

I hadn't seen Garrett or Peter since the other night at the bar. I thought for sure they were going to follow me home and drain me dry before I even made it to my door, but they never did. Jacob called one night, to make sure I was okay after he left the box that shall never be named on my bed. I told him that I was upset at first but that I got over it. He asked if I threw the pictures away, and I lied and said yes, but that I'd burned them first. Truthfully, they were still in the wooden box buried under my shoes in the back of my closet. I thought that it'd be an out of sight out of mind type thing, but that was not to be.

All I had been able to think about was the unwritten content of that blasted letter. It screamed that Edward still loved me, if you read between the lines. If you took the words at face value, they meant little, but I had gotten to know Edward rather well in the months that I was with him. Hell, I had a scar on my wrist from his teeth for god's sake. But I couldn't let myself hope or believe that the message between the lines was true. And even if they were, would it change anything? Even if I did ever see him again, could I take him back? I was twenty years old already, while he was still seventeen. A few more years and we'd look so out of place together.

Was my issue with age really a good enough reason to deny him my love, though? He had not only broken my heart but stolen it right out of my chest, and absconded with it to parts unknown. I'd probably smack him if I saw him again, given my recent tendency towards violence first, ask questions later. Or have Alice or Esme smack him for me. Hell, maybe even Rosalie would. I knew she never liked me, but perhaps the fact that my introduction to their family was entirely Edward's fault, she might just hit him for me.

Trying to put my thoughts of Edward aside, I pulled out my laptop and began writing my next chapter for the paper. Checking my email quickly, first, I read a few reviews that my editor in chief had forwarded to me.

"Wonderful new chapter. Can't wait for the next one," read the first one. I always had a review or few like that every week. Not really a constructive review, never really addressed the content, but it did add to my review count, which now numbered in the thousands. I was more interested in the content of the reviews, but my editor and the owner of the paper were interested in the quantity. More reviews meant more readers, which meant more money coming into the paper.

"Your writing seemed a bit distracted this week," Another reviewer wrote. "Still love the story and will continue to read, but this week it seemed a bit like your personal life bled into your writing time. Perhaps it's just me." Well, she or he had me there. My personal life had bled into my writing time last week. Not that I'd spent more time with Jacob than I should have, but that my thoughts were distracted when I should have been writing. Even more-so this week with my mind being taken over by all thoughts on Edward. I really needed to distract myself.

Deciding to go to my sanctuary, I packed my laptop into the hard case, grabbed a duffel and stuffed two days worth of clothes into it, hopped on my bike and left Kill Devil Hills in the dust. I drove south to Manteo and pulled up outside my favorite house. It was my dream house, truly. A three story victorian mansion that had turrets and wrap around porches, pristine flora and an even more incredible dècor on the inside. "Well if it isn't Malice!" the owner of the bed and breakfast greeted as I stepped in. I'd signed my name M. Alice Brandon once when I'd been there, and ever since, she'd taken to calling me Malice.

"Hiya, Bernadette, whaddya know?" I greeted, placing my bag on the floor next to the front desk.

"Oh you know, busy season and all, but during the week it's fairly dull in here. Which I imagine is why you're here, right? Oh, is that a new tattoo?" I had just finished taking off my helmet and scarf as she'd finished talking.

I lifted my chin so she could see all of it, turning left and right to give the full effect. "Yep, just got it done a couple days ago. It's still pretty sore, but it'll start scabbing and flaking in a few days. But once it's fully healed, it'll be a masterpiece." She admired the work and asked me a few questions about it.

She opened up her registry and asked me how many nights. "Let's for for two right now," I answered. "I may extend that, depending on how much work I get done. Also, if your reservations allow for it, of course." SHe nodded, giving me her winning smile and booked me in the tea suite for two nights.

"If you need to stay longer, we may have to switch your room, but we'll know as the day arrives, okay?"

"Sounds perfect, Bernadette; thank you." Her nephew grabbed my bags and followed us up the two flights of stairs to my favorite room. It was the room that housed the top of the turret, and therefore the priciest. It had a window seat that wrapped around the turret and conveniently had an outlet right under the seat so I could plug in my laptop and get to work while I looked out at the pretty town below.

Bernadette and her husband Avery took a liking to me right away, the first time I visited. I had been just riding through the various towns on the Outer Banks, getting to know the area, and this house stood out to me right away. When I learned it was a B&B, I knew I had to stay at least one night. I fell in love with it as soon as I stepped through the door. Evidently, the very first baby born on American soil to English parents, Virginia Dare, lived in this very house. Hence why this county in North Carolina was called Dare County, and of course where the state of Virginia got its name.

At first the couple was off-put by my riding leathers and all my tattoos, but as soon as they got me talking, they said I was like the daughter they never had. That alone had me wanting to run for the hills, but I liked the house so much, I let them feel that way about me. They had an empty house that night, so they let me have my pick of the rooms and charged me the off-season rate since it was during the week and it was the rainy season. They also let me park my bike in their carport so it wouldn't get rained on, as I'd neglected to bring my cover with me that trip.

Ever since then, they'd given me a room of my choice for the cheapest price and even threw in extra goodies here and there. This time, Bernadette brought a cheese and fruit platter to me, compliments of the chef. I always made sure to leave a generous tip when I left, and a note, thanking them for their generosity and above-and-beyond hospitality. The town of Manteo was a dream in itself. Full of quaint little shops and cafés, it's a writer's dream. Unfortunately, the price to live in Manteo was a bit beyond my means when I moved out here. Now, I was much better off, but I had already fallen in love with my apartment and the area in Kill Devil Hills.

Once I was settled in, my mind was clear of all things Jacob, Peter, Garrett, Edward, and any other supernatural beings, and I was able to focus on the task at hand. Before I even realized, it, I had three chapters done. I quickly read through the work and was satisfied with what I'd done. My boss would be ecstatic to have three chapters done and ready for printing. That is if he approved them of course, though he rarely had any edits for me. Usually just minor grammatical things here and there that I'd missed, which were rare, thankfully.

I closed my laptop and decided to head out to one of the local restaurants for some fresh seafood. I felt a brief pang in my chest when I thought of how delicious fresh fish was that Charlie used to catch all the time. I hadn't eaten any seafood for a long time after his death, and still couldn't stand fish, but crab, crawfish and other shellfish were growing on me. Especially blue crab, the ocean and sound were filled with them around the Outer Banks, and they were every bit as good as King crab, for less than half the price.

The sun was setting beautifully on the sound, so I chose a restaurant that had a view. This particular establishment was owned by the people who also owned the marina. Two sisters who up and decided to buy a restaurant one day and then, with their success, bought out the whole pier and the marina. They had quite a story.

After ordering a house margarita and blackened shrimp tacos for an appetizer, I decided on seared mahi mahi for an entree. Yes it was fish, but it was the least fishy of all the fish I'd had, and it was more like sushi, since it was mostly raw apart from the seared outside. Charlie would have gagged just looking at it, which also helped my psyche. If it was something I knew he'd love, I always had a hard time doing it, or eating it, or drinking it, etc. I hadn't touched beer at all since he died, let alone vitamin R. And forget coming anywhere close to a baseball game. No thanks. Wasn't there yet. Although, for that one, I had two reasons.

"Hi there," a semi-familiar voice greeted me. I looked up from my tacos and saw Garrett standing there.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I stared at the setting sun and noticed that it had gone beyond the horizon, making it safe for vampires to come out, though it was still plenty bright out.

"Can't I go to a bar?" he replied, looking affronted.

"Um, yes of course you can," I answered, shaking my head. "Sorry, I was just surprised is all. I mean, I saw you in Kill Devil Hills. We're way down in Manteo now. Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?" I knew full well he could have followed me easily. Hell, he probably was swimming along side the ferry on my way here. It wouldn't have surprised me in the least. I was still very much viable prey to him.

"May I join you?" he asked, pointing to the seat next to mine. I shrugged my fake indifference and saw him smirk, as if reading me like a book. Damn vampires. I was sure my pulse was going crazy, and that gave away my true emotions on the matter. "So, what brings you down to Manteo, M.A?"

I looked around at the beauty around me. "Do I need a reason other than that?" I asked, pointing at the beautiful bay filled with boats and fisherman, and families on holiday.

"I suppose not. It is rather breathtaking, I'll admit. But you've got similar views up in KDH, why not just stay up there?"

I opted for the truth. "When I first moved out here, I rode through all the towns in the area to get my bearings and learn about the area. I fell in love with this town as soon as I saw it. Especially the bed and breakfast around the corner."

"Oh, the Virginia Dare house?" he asked, pointing in the general direction of the house. "Did you know that

"Virginia Dare was the first English American born on this soil? Yes, I did know that. I knew who Virginia Dare was before I moved here, but I learned that she was born in and lived in that house when I first visited."

"You should have been there when it was first built. It was truly glorious. They've done a good job of keeping it up, but it'll never be like it first was. No amount of 'antiquing' or bringing in vintage furniture and dècor will ever make it as amazing as it was."

"You say that as if you were there," I teased.

He looked right at me, staring into my soul. "M.A., I think we both know that you know there is a very strong likelihood that I was."

I blinked. "I… I don't know what you mean." Great, good job, Bella, way to totally lose your ability to lie, I thought.

"And I know that your name isn't really M.A. Or Mary Alice for that matter. That name belongs to a dear friend of mine."

"It belongs to a dear friend of mine, too," I retorted. "I took it to honor her. I haven't seen her in a long time and I wanted to feel connected," I admitted. "Plus, I had a good reason to hide from my past. Can you really blame me for that?"

He chuckled. "No, I suppose I can't," he agreed. "I'm staying at the Dare house tonight, too," he continued. I couldn't help my gasp. That had him looking right at me again. "You're in no danger from me, M.A," he assured me. "I'll admit, when you first walked into that bar the other night, I nearly couldn't resist you, but once I learned more about you and now that I know we have some mutual friends, I couldn't lay a finger on you. I think our mutual pixie-sized friend would rip me apart for even considering it."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't be so sure. I haven't heard from Alice since the day they left, well, the day before they left to be exact. I doubt she cares anymore. Look, Garrett, it's been nice chatting with you, but I don't want to associate with anymore people like you if I can help it. I left that part of my life a long time ago." I threw a few bills on the table and left the restaurant and Garrett in my tracks. Thankfully, he didn't follow.

I tried to sleep at the B&B that night, but knowing that Garrett was lurking about in another room in the house had me tossing and turning. I thought vampires were completely out of my life when Edward left me in the woods. Granted they would always be in my heart, but he made it clear that they would never cross paths with me again. I suppose he couldn't have known that I would be a vampire magnet regardless of whether or not he was in my life, but still. Plus, I moved to a sunny state, what the hell were they doing here in the first place?

In the morning, I gave my apologies to Bernadette and Avery, saying something came up at work and I had to leave a day early. They refunded my fee for the second night, even though I tried to refuse it. They would have mailed it to me or stuffed it in my bag on my way out anyway. At least I got one good day of writing done while I was there. But I was worried that Manteo had been ruined for me, too. Thanks to another fucking vampire.

I got home in the late morning and pulled out my laptop again, some new inspiration hitting me for the next chapter. It's all fun and games until your past catches up to you. Strange how I had just written that sentence down for my next chapter only to hear my doorbell ring, look up through the window and see Alice and Jasper standing on the other side. Well hell, here we go.


End file.
